


Now

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-08
Updated: 2016-02-08
Packaged: 2018-05-15 15:45:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5791321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based off of supernaturalimagines': Imagine Dean knocking on your door saying you're in trouble.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Now

Your kitchen cabinets shake as you check for your misplaced coffee cup, eyes not fully capable from opening, drowsiness still weighing heavy on your lids. The cabinets slam open and close, loosening the hinges. Right as you look to see what's causing all this, the shaking stops.

“Okay?”

Letting the shaking travel to the back of your mind. Your upcoming essay, Anglo-Saxon English versus today's English, lays unwritten on your computer. The concept so overwhelming that doing your laundry and cleaning your entire apartment seems like an extravagant, luxurious evening. You sit down at your breakfast table, fingers laced in your hair, and stare blankly at the empty page. Ideas of what it'll look like swirling in your head, yet not having the ways to properly explain it.

Frustrated, with yourself and the assignment, you open another tab, YouTube. You watch news, video games, kittens sleeping in pizza shaped beds, everything, to get your mind off the assignment. But that's all that's there, looming like an impending storm, over your thoughts. Your phone vibrates on the table, shooting through the knee you have rested on the underside of the table. You stare at the screen and unlock it.

“I call the tall one”

Attached to the text from your best friend, Gabriel, is a picture of two men. Both incredibly tall and good looking, but one peaks your interest more. His legs bow slightly and his suit screams authority figure, but his demeanor seems to say the opposite. Yet another picture comes through. A close up of their faces. In that moment something strikes you as odd. You feel like you recognize the shorter one but can't place from where.

You text back a quick “I can deal with that” before getting changed and running errands. Miscellaneous cleaning supplies and grocery fill your trunk, a stockpile to last you and Gabriel for the rest of the month. You finish loading your car with the last of your groceries you take the shopping cart back to the rack. As you turn to go back to your car you slam into someone. They quickly grab your waist so you don't fall, their hands gripping your sides tightly. As you go to apologize you freeze as you see his face. It's the man from the photo.

“I-I'm sorry. I wasn't paying attention.” You stare into the man’s green eyes, overcome by the familiarity so striking you feel like your jaw must be touching the ground.

“It's alright. No big deal.” He gives you a charming grin and heads on his way with the larger man trailing after him.

You get into your car still flummoxed by your inability to place where you've met him before. It only continues to irk you the further you get away from the supermarket.

-

“That was Y/N, right?” Sam asks from the passenger seat, reading his brother’s facial expressions and body language.

“Yeah, that's her. She's different, though. She doesn't remember m-us.” There is sadness in Dean’s voice thinly veiled by the facade he puts in place.

“What are you going to do?”

Dean tightens his hands around the steering wheel. “I have no idea, but we have to do something soon. Its’ getting close.”

-

Back home you nearly drop your groceries when you see the mess. Plates smashed, doors detached, and your laptop has been drenched in tea. The distinctive smell of milk tea fills the room. You can't place why it smells so familiar and like home.

Not sure where to start you pick the least demanding of the three options; cleaning the smashed plates. Your broom away the irregularly shaped pieces into the bin, they clash against each other sounding like wind chimes. Finished, you check if there is anything that can salvage your laptop. But as you lift the computer tea drips from the corners, splattering against your breakfast table.

A knock at your door disrupts your blank, frustrated stare. You place your busted computer back on the table and wipe the residue off on your jeans. When you open your door you can't help but think how unsettling it is to not remember why you feel so attached to him.

“You're the guy from the supermarket.”

“Y/N, we need to talk.” Dean pushes his way through your door and Sam apologetically follows.

“Well, first you can start by explaining how you know my name?” And everything else, but one step at a time.

“Oh, right. Sammy?” Sam shakes his head and hands over the conversation to Dean as he searches your house.

“You and I, we'll all of us, used to be friends. Our dad and your mom used to hunt together whenever something big was in town.”

“Hunt? That doesn't make sense. My mom’s a vegetarian and a massive animal lover. She'd never go hunting.” Plus, there's no way she’d know how to fire a gun.

“Not that type of hunting. More like hunting monsters, demons, you know, things that go bump in the night.” While every fiber of your being screams at you that he’s crazy, that you should run, the look on his face silences the warnings.

“Since you know my name but I don't remember yours…” Bashful, you want to continue but stop mid-sentence.

“Dean Winchester. And the jolly green giant over there is Sam.” God, that smile is enough to charm anyone into following Dean across the Earth and off a cliff.

The slightly awkward but tender reunion is interrupted by your front door being flung off its’ hinges. Standing in the door is Cassidy, old friend and Aunt. But she looks almost unrecognizable. Her once pristine, smooth skin is littered with blotches of uneven color and her dark brown eyes look clouded. Before you can question her Dean and Sam pull out their guns.

“Step aside, Winchesters. I just need to have a few words with the my darling Y/N.” Her voice hoarse and barely there.

“Not going to let that happen, Cassidy.”

“Y/N, dear, please call off the dogs and talk to me. I'm sure you'll understand why I'm here.”

You push through the boys because, in that moment, you say her again; the original Cassidy. That warm smile whenever you'd doused the kitchen in flour after trying to make pancakes. As you reach her one of Cassidy’s wrinkled, vein covered hands wraps around your neck and cuts off your oxygen.

“I've come to collect on your mother’s contract. One memory swipe and babysitting, for her soul. But I can't find her, so you'll be taking her place.”

As Cassidy goes to suck your soul from your body a blinding light shoot out her eyes. Life taken from her body Cassidy crumples into a heap. Standing in her place is Gabriel with a steel-looking dagger of sorts. He claps his hands lazily.

“Nicely done, boys. Next time take a little longer so Y/N dies.” Gabriel casually walks over Cassidy's body, the steel dagger gone from his hands, and he checks your neck. “You doing alright?”

“No, not really.” You look around you and feel unbelievably left out of whatever circle these guys seem to run in. “Can someone please explain to me what the hell is going on?”

“Sorry, Y/N,” Gabriel faces you, eyes sympathetic but stern, “but even though Cassidy's not a threat anymore, you still have a target on your back.”

“Can you at least tell me..what she i-was?”

“Do you really want to know?” Sam speaks for the first time, your camping jacket in his hands.

You look at Cassidy's body and feel chills roll through your body, your skin prickling with goosebumps. “Not really. Not at this very moment.”

“We should really be hitting the road soon, Y/N, so pack your bags.” Dean goes to help scavenge what he can of food from your car when you stop him, your hand wrapped around his wrist.

“Where exactly do you think you're taking me?”

“Somewhere safe.” Dean breaks from your grasp and goes to prepare everything for the trip.

You take one look at Gabriel, at your shared house, and finally down to Cassidy's body. What's going to happen next is one massive guessing game. Why and what may be coming after you won't stop just because you need some time to think. So far, at least the Winchesters and Gabriel haven't tried to kill you. If that's all you've got for now you're not going to start looking a gift horse in the mouth.

“Let's do this.”

 


End file.
